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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24062236">Aftermath</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeirdOnes/pseuds/TheWeirdOnes'>TheWeirdOnes</a></h1>

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<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Post-Last Battle, poem</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 06:28:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24062236</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeirdOnes/pseuds/TheWeirdOnes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A poem on the aftermath of battle, written for 75 years after the second world war ended on the eight of May.<br/>Based on the aftermath of the last battle on Merlin (if it has a name please tell because I can't remember).</p><p>By LowFlyingOctopus</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

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<a name="section0001"><h2>Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This hasn't been beta-ed so any mistakes are mine.</p><p>-LowFlyingOctopus</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waiting on a field of battle.<br/>
Standing in a field of pain.<br/>
Not long past friends stood beside me,<br/>
Some will never stand again. </p><p>Trumpets called and horses thundered,<br/>
nearby they took up the cry.<br/>
Just to fall and stain the field,<br/>
there forever will they lie.</p><p>I stand now in field of battle,<br/>
where long ago meadows grew.<br/>
Now again will poppies flower,<br/>
and the meadows grow anew. </p><p>Birds long past have fled the treetops,<br/>
and long ago forgot to sing.<br/>
But now shall gather, proud and hearty,<br/>
full again with joys of spring.</p>
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